


Resensualution

by Silver Lioness (Rumpels_Darker_Dearie)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fingering, Secret Relationships, Teacher-Student Relationship, sex ed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 04:13:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15549369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumpels_Darker_Dearie/pseuds/Silver%20Lioness
Summary: It is time when the Potions Master has to give the NEWT level students The TALK, Harry and Ron are anticipating the embarrassment of Horace Slughorn...Perhaps Hermione should have anticipated something else.This was formerly a Snamione story called An Unforgotten Lesson and can be found on Adult Fanfiction . org under the name Silver Lioness.





	Resensualution

****

** RESENSUALUTION **

 

Hermione, Ron and Harry were sitting in the Potions classroom eagerly awaiting the car crash of today’s obligatory lesson for all 6th years approaching or are at the age of majority. They knew that this lesson was going to be embarrassing for Professor Slughorn. The Potions Master had to give a lucid discussion on sex. It was their 6th year of school; Hermione’s mind swam with mostly negatory emotions over the fact that she was now only a year and a half away from her NEWTS. It was almost over for ‘ _the Golden Trio_.’  
  
Harry and Ron had some embarrassing questions all lined up in an effort to confuse and fluster old Slughorn. Hermione knew that, and she did not exert herself to stop them either. In truth Slughorn was a teacher that she could not like. Try hard as she could Hermione found that it was simply that she did not like the way he showed favouritism to only the smartest or well-acquainted child in the classroom. At least Snape had some reason why he chose Malfoy as a favourite, a childish one, but it was a reason all the same. It was not cowardice; no, it was revenge. Hermione could respect that far more as a reason to like someone.

However, their new Professor held no one in high regard. Due to his excellent charms and knowledge of Dark Arts the new teacher was the seemingly reformed Antonin Dolohov. Professor Dolohov, as he liked to be called, gave all students the gimlet gaze. All bar one. His dark, Russian brand of brooding was aimed only at _her_. Hermione, the Witch he’d been obsessed with since he held her against his body in the Department of Mysteries. He was here now because Severus Snape had fully declared his position of spying for the Light, and therefore asked for his left forelimb to be amputated. Dumbledore acquiesced. Severus was now currently in a secret location known only to Remus and The Headmaster.

Antonin Dolohov then decided he’d had enough of being crucio’d for petty errors and joined the Order and the staff as the new Dark Charms and Spell Craft Professor that was now a Ministry Assigned Mandatory Lesson for NEWT level Students. I.E The Golden Trio and friends.  
  
“Can’t wait for Slugs to talk this one through with us,” Harry said giggling.   
  
“No, I can’t either!” Ron exclaimed. “I wish Creevey was in our class, he could take snap shots of his blustering face.”  
  
“At least we escaped Snape or worse… _Dolohov_ teaching us,” Harry visibly shuddered as if a swarm of flies had landed on his shoulders. “The idea of that _death eater_ git talking sex is somehow…” Harry stopped dead when he felt a presence behind him. He turned around and looked straight into the cold, dark glittering eyes of Professor Antonin Dolohov.  
  
Hermione was going to warn him but felt that Harry deserved it. For some unfathomable reason Dolohov had risked life and limb to save his life; time and time again, and it was not even Christmas. It was the same with Professor Snape. As much as Hermione was somewhat repulsed by the fact that Dumbledore trusted the Russian bear, it _had_ to be enough for Hermione. Yet even after Katy Bell’s life had been saved due to Dolohov’s position as a Curse Breaker, Harry proved what a stubborn mule he was by murmuring against their new teacher.

“Somehow _what_ , Potter?” he asked in his thickly accented, ice-cold voice. “I dearly would like your assessment of my abilities on this subject.” Harry blushed, mumbled something incoherently, then looked down on the floor. “Ten points from Gryffindor.”  
  
“Still a death eating parasite,” Ron whispered to Harry when Dolohov’s back was turned. Antonin had yet to show remorse for murdering Ron’s uncles and whilst Hermione could respect and sympathise with that, she also felt it prudent to lend him the story of _Beauty and the Beast_ , which he has yet to read. “I hope that new teaching positions can also be cursed!”

“Ron, shush!” Hermione snapped.  
  
When will they ever learn to trust Dumbledore? She rolled her eyes sighing with frustration and began tapping her quill on the desk, the only outward tic she had when she was aggravated. Truly. Was it hard for people to believe in redemption? Dolohov was not pleasant, but he was fair. His teaching style was just as dramatic as Snape’s, but he did not favour the Slytherins quite so much! In fact, Hermione was shocked he was, in fact, a Ravenclaw and held quite healthy debates with Flitwick, his old head of house.

“Thank you, Miss Granger from ridding me of the use of my tongue,” he growled. “Back to the matter at hand –“

She had tried dating Ron before that fateful ride to London, but after the Department of Mysteries, things changed between the two of them. For some unknown reason Dolohov had saved, not only her life but Ginny’s too and this caused heavy argumentation between the couple. When Ron tried to incorporate Molly into his side his mother gave him her frostiest stare and literally snarled: _“You ought to be thankful I was not there, Ronald Weasley, because I might have punished you instead!”_ All Ginny knew was that her Uncles murderer had saved _her_ life and that held conflicting emotions in the already confused girl.

Luna had survived because Rabastan Lestrange shoved her to the side. An action that even Luna herself was befuddled over and her only explanation was the _Hummerdingles_ … His altruistic decision now had the renowned former Death Eater in a safe-house alongside Xeno, the girls father. Meanwhile, Hermione had found she could not stay with someone who couldn’t be bothered to go up to a person and say _thank you_ for saving their _own_ sibling’s life. No one had said thank you to Dolohov… apart from Hermione. She remembered entering his office on the first night to bid him gratitude.  

 _“My pleasure, **mishka** ,” he mumbled, his dark gaze glittering into her soul stripping a flame through her._  
  
“Sex,” Dolohov whispered in his slow steady deep melodic voice, one that had many girls sighing in pleasant dreamy breathy tones. “I wonder how I can make this subject more… pleasant?” he turned his head subtly smirking as he watched his little _kotenok_. Hermione found herself blushing as she was suddenly brought back to the present when he said the word. From his lips that word sounded positively sinfully seductive. “Yet, I fear I must also warn you about the bad things. Conjugation is not something to be played with. The consequences of actions of unprotected _lust_ can be _extremely_ dire.” Pansy sniggered. “What has caused such mindless childish attitude, Miss Parkinson?”  
  
Pansy blushed in shame. “Nothing, sir!” she exclaimed huskily, everyone knew he was meant to be badder than Lucius Malfoy. It had reached his ears that Pansy was nothing if not a little Bellatrix in the making. Dolohov was disgusted that she was openly flirting with him by batting her eyelashes. “I just…”  
  
“Five points off Slytherin!” Dolohov snapped interrupting the teen.

Pansy sulked. Hermione wanted to say something but decided to keep her head down, and mouth shut.  
  
“But…!” Millicent began.  
  
“Do you want to make it an even 10, Miss Bulstrode?” Dolohov snidely proposed. “Now, let’s get on with the lesson.”  
  
_Wow_ , Hermione thought, as she looked up at him. She had begun admiring him from the moment he covered her shaking body with his from Jugson’s ire. She knew that the six had changed somewhat from the fiasco after their OWLS, but she thought that the players from the other side of the fight, had remained intact at least.  
  
“As I was saying, the consequences of thoughtless actions are indeed dire. Some people end up with children they don’t really want or aren’t ready to look after.”  
  
Hermione was sure she saw a look of pain cross his eyes at that. Is that what had happened to him? Born to parents who were either too incompetent or too selfish to look after him?  
  
“Some Wizards and Witches can also get highly fatal S.T.D’s. Can anyone tell me what that stands for?”  
  
Everyone was expecting him to pick on Draco, which he did out of malicious contempt for the son of Lucius Malfoy. Currently, the boy in question was sitting next to Crabbe with an empty look in his eyes. He had no idea what it stood for, and he gulped heavily, choking a little on his own saliva: “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” whispered Dolohov in a cool sneer. “Five points off!”

A flash of movement was all Dolohov needed, his pirouette an elegant swirl that caused appreciative gasps as the girls realised he must have stronger leg muscles than appeared to be so artlessly fluid in movement. “Miss Granger?” his onyx eyes sparkled with mischief, “are you ill, you have not raised your hand!”

The Slytherin half of the class laughed at Dolohov’s snipe. Harry and Ron were flushing indignantly for Hermione’s sake.   
  
“I am not ill, sir,” she answered with a sigh she was used to it. From Snape, to fake Moody to Umbridge… Dolohov caught the sigh.  
  
“Then, please, answer the question,” he hissed causing her hair to blow by his warm breath.  
  
“It stands for Sexually Transmitted Disease,” she replied clearly and firmly. Dolohov’s lip curled as his student’s pretty mouth curled around the ‘sex’ part of the statement, his dick was beginning to show interest. In long languid strides, he moved towards her his hips swinging between the desks. “They can be considered benign to deathly.”  
  
“Can you tell me how fatal these diseases are?” he asked softly when he had reached her desk, he placed a note in her hand.  
  
“For muggles they can cause slow and painful deaths but for Wizards it can be almost instantly fatal.”  
  
“Why is that, Miss Granger?”  
  
“The Tertiary Gene for sustaining our magic heightens the pressure,” she responded. “Also, Wizards rely too much on their own cures.”  
  
Dolohov nodded his head. “It almost makes being a muggle worth it, wouldn’t you say?”  
  
“I am not sure on that one sir,” she answered. “Pregnancy is easier on a witch than a muggle.”  
  
Neither had left the gaze of the other. Their eyes were locked in grim determination, not allowing either to back down, uncomfortably the air was filled with awkward coughs and shuffling in seats. Everyone switched looks from one to the other. Harry was beginning to feel hot.  
  
“Well, let’s leave consequences alone for a second shall we, and talk about the Practise,” Dolohov murmured.  
  
He tore his eyes away from hers, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She, too, was beginning to feel scorching heat from that weird little interlude. A subtle rustling sound softly whispered, she was reminded of the note: “A Thankful Heart is Treasure Rare, Remember this second part first – a girl who gives freely little pleasures cares – In care and kindness I trust in you – to one day be the one to hold me through…” then it stopped… Hermione quickly hid it inside her robes. Hold him through…what exactly?  
  
“The practise,” Dolohov replied blankly. “Hmm, the amount of times I have caught students rutting in the corridors in my so far brief tenure here, it’s a small wonder why we have this lesson at all.”  
  
Everyone began to feel uneasy. Harry had been caught three times the past week with Katy Bell, their relationship a secret and a decoy. After she took a bludger into her chest he forgot about the snitch and dived after her to save her. The same bludger then began beating the hell out of Harry as it tried to get to Katy – like the rogue one from his second year. Laying on the ground Harry saw how pretty she was and decided to ask her out on the next Hogsmeade trip if she was fine. She nodded, it turned physical after Quidditch training and they had been caught, most annoyingly by Adrian Pucey who docked points and caused Harry to leave alone. Harry knew it was wrong to vent his sexual urges on her when he was desperately in love with Ginny. He had not come to understand that she was playing a similar game – it could not be known that Katy and Adrian had been in a committed relationship… so committed they were talking of marriage and children.

One day, Katy confessed all to Hermione. She’d understood the motivations but had to get both Katy who was a good friend to her, and Adrian, a Slytherin boy who was not quite so much in love with the Dark Arts as others, out of various scrapes. He and Ginny had been secretly engaged for two months; it was so secret even Ron had yet to know about it.  
  
“Right,” Dolohov yelled as he had seen the class go glassy-eyed, they were bored. “Well, let’s just assume for a second that all of you are virgins.”  
  
“Bet Granger still is!” Malfoy exclaimed.  
  
“15 points OFF, Mr Malfoy. Unless you have something constructive to say, I would not say anything at all.”  
  
This was unprecedented. Normally, Dolohov let insults fly by no matter who stated them and to whom they were aimed at. Clearly not today, for some reason he had decided to crack down on snide audio bullying… this worried Harry.

“ **As you are all still** _virgins_ ,” Dolohov said in a peevish tone. Why talk about it? Mixed-Gender boarding school… Those who are doing it have probably knowingly ignored half the information parents/guardians would have explained. The other half or let us say a quarter are LGBT, and you got the first five years who are still working themselves out let alone other people. He rolled his eyes and stood behind Hermione again. His hands gently pressed themselves heavily on her shoulders. “Then you will need to know exactly what attracts one person to the other.”

This statement was met with stony silence. He had them gripped. Good! “But,” Neville piped up, “how does someone know if another person is…”

“Have your eye on someone, do you?” Dolohov smirked at Neville’s blue gaze burning defiance at the Death Eater in front of them. “Fine!” he sighed. “Generally it is the first thing one-person notices about the other is how the person looks. It is all to do with the _eyes_.” He was gazing around at the teens he was forced to deal with. “You can tell a lot with the eyes if you know how to read the condition of the human heart and soul. How you like them, how they like you, all of it is written in the way that the pupils dilate, expand around the darkened iris. There is nothing more glorious than the sight of a woman at the start of her arousal. The lips are slightly parted and your own breath hitches in your throat. It is also how they feel drawn to you. You cannot stop looking at each other. You write anonymous letters to one another contained with bad poetry.”

He breathed a huge sigh of relief, as he assessed the class, they all looked like they were going to behave. Trust Slughorn to run out on this particular lesson he thought bitterly.  
  
“Another indication is more… _personal_. If you feel your temperature rising around that one person then that is your body preparing you for sex.”  
  
Pansy had to hold in her snigger. She found the idea of the Russian bear whispering words like naughty, lust, the state of women when aroused, was deliciously sensuous. She was not the only one as a chorus of dreamy sighs accompanied by come-hither eyes from the likes of Brown and Patil. A thought stealthily crept into Miss Parkinson’s mind: _He is trying to seduce someone in this room,_ Pansy fervently prayed that it was her.   
  
Hermione decided she didn’t trust herself to look at her teacher. Hot cheeks and a quickening of breath would have made her into a Dolly (what the fangirls of Professor Dolohov called themselves). No, she could not face him… Everything he was saying applied to her at the moment, and the way she felt for him burned through the centre of her heart.  
  
“For a male this can cause a reaction, or should I say more clearly, an _erection_. This is nature’s way of telling you it is time to seduce your chosen mate.”  
  
Harry spluttered as the mental image of Dolohov with his trousers off invaded his mind as he humped – no, he felt sick – the girl who’s legs were wrapped around Dolohov’s was Ginny? Why was his imagination taunting him with that unpleasant image? He was shocked however that some of the girls in the class were bending their heads down in artless efforts to glimpse at Professor Dolohov’s package. Unfortunately, Dolohov was as robed and attired as Snape, except he wore dark purple with silver trim.   
  
“Something I said, Potter?” Dolohov sneered.  
  
“No,” Potter said through gritted teeth and embarrassment: “Sir!”  
  
“Good!” Dolohov exclaimed. “Now for women there is a _slightly_ different area that erects?” he paused. As he was about to ask someone McGonagall burst in and looked wild-eyed around the dingy potion’s classroom and then they fell on Eloise Midgen: “Miss Midgen, your presence is required at the Headmaster’s office,” she sniffed as she so often did in Dolohov’s presence. He was not a patch on her dear Severus.

A shy Gryffindor stood up walking by a sympathetic Lavender, Fay, Parvati and Hermione. Eloise, like Hermione, was muggleborn so her family would be a target for that simple fact alone. When she’d left, Dolohov and McGonagall nodded briefly to one another then she swept out.

“Now,” he smirked. “You have had time to think on it, Potter… what part of the female anatomy becomes aroused?” Harry ducked his head out of anger muffling obscenities only Ron could hear. If Hermione had heard she’d have whacked him with her book. “Shall I elucidate?” The ex-Death Eater curled his lips in a smouldering smirk. “As Potter is too shy to speak aloud, I shall. The breast. The nipple becomes hard they feel full. The effect is rather alluring to the already erect male.”  
  
Hermione really had to keep her head down. She crossed her legs under the table and tried not to squirm visibly in her seat. This conversation normally would have no effect on her whatsoever, but it was Dolohov! Dolohov armed only with his quiet, silky seductive voice. She was fighting a losing battle.  
  
“The male and female then have to become naked. Now, once naked, the female guides the male and the male enters her vagina. They are now coupled. They _ride_ each other for a time, and then orgasm ensues.”  
  
Hermione balled her fists into her lap to try and keep herself from saying anything.   
  
“What happens then?” Longbottom asked; he had become a lot braver around Dolohov now that Neville knew that the surprisingly good teacher wasn’t an enemy.  
  
“You truly don’t know, Longbottom?” Dolohov sarcastically replied. “I guess there are true virgins in my class. What happens then? Well, the male ejects sperm into the female. If the sperm goes to the egg, and if the couple have not protected themselves, then she will get pregnant. There are two different types of Sperm,” Dolohov sighed. “The sper…” Hermione rushed her hand up in the air. “Yes, Miss Granger?”

“Chromosomes, sir,” she said. “They call them chromosomes.”

“The chromosomes, then, muggle scientists have termed as X and Y, now when the X egg and X chromosome meet a female is produced. When a Y chromosome meets the X egg a male is created.”  
  
Everyone looked at each other. Why was Dolohov moving around the classroom throughout this lecture? It made squirming inevitable.  
  
“That is the theory,” Dolohov said. “NO I do not require any Practical Work to be done neither would I appreciate essays to be handed in. I am not in the market for adolescent fantasies regarding their famous crushes,” this was aimed at Harry who again muttered curses to himself. “So, any questions?”  
  
None were forthcoming. The class _felt_ that was a joke, but they were uncertain as to whether they were meant to laugh or not, so they just exchanged amused looks to their friends. The bell rang to end the class… relief. Everyone scrambled to pick up their bags and get out of the classroom as quickly as possible. They had felt uncomfortable for the entire fifty minutes they were there.

Still, it was going to take a lot of showers and a ton of Quidditch for Harry and Ron to make them feel clean ever again. Harry seriously needed mind soap too, as with every look he gave Ginny various positions were brought to mind and some rather… disturbing… imagery involved her and Dolohov.  
  
No one was more eager to leave the classroom than Hermione. She was almost melting with desire in her seat. Nervously, Hermione looked at the ground wishing it would just swallow her up when he whispered: _erection_. She squared her shoulders after she had slung her strap over her shoulders and was just about to leave in an irritated flounce when a heavy hand gripped her other shoulder. She closed her eyes trembling with anticipation.  
  
“Unless you’d like to, Miss Granger?” Dolohov whispered in her ear. “You’re very good at _Practical_ , aren’t you? Write over the _length_ required, don’t you?” Hermione felt her mouth go dry, her face bloomed scarlet, and silently she nodded. “Do you want to stay, _Hermione_?”  
  
Oh Merlin, what was she to do now? Her knees buckled at the sound of her first name on his lips. Harry had spotted his new least favourite Professor with his friend. With purpose and his jaw set as defiantly as ever, he strode up to the mismatched pair, completely oblivious to the sexual tension rolling off them in waves as she stood there transfixed.  
  
“Hermione, come on, we’ve got some Transfiguration studying to do,” he said.  
  
Dolohov had released his firm hold on her shoulder. Leaving Hermione to make her own mind up. Silently, he glanced between them watching their separate reactions and thought processes.  
  
“I’ll join you soon, Harry,” Hermione answered. “I have to discuss something with Professor Dolohov.”  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes at Dolohov; he would never trust the git, especially with his sister.  
  
“Okay,” Harry said. “See you in the library.”  
  
He walked out of the classroom slowly, slipping backward glances at Dolohov for as long as he could. Once Potter was out of the classroom Dolohov had reached Hermione in a few quick strides. He locked the door and barred it against any intruders.  
  
Hermione felt her heart leap to her throat. He strode up to her gracefully. “Well now, Miss Granger, shall we begin the lesson?” Hermione looked up into her Professor’s dark eyes. There was a warmth in them she had not spotted before. “I am tired of fighting my feelings. Exhausted by my will and heart in battle with my mind and common sense. Severus left because his feelings for you got too much for him to deal with. Please, Hermione, my _Pchelka_ ,” he placed his hands on her small hips. “My dark desire. I need you with great urgency. I need your heart, your mind… I need your lips on mine, your eyes gods your eyes… then there is… _mishka_ …” he groaned out pulling her closer to his body.   
  
“I…I… don’t think we should, sir,” Hermione stammered as her small hand landed on his heart. “I mean isn’t it against Hogwarts policy to fra…” she squealed as he pressed the long length of his erection across her skirt hitching it up her thigh revealing her black lace underwear. “Frater…tern…Fraternise,” she finally hissed out as he nuzzled into her upturned neck. “Mmmm,” she hummed as his hot breath fanned her flesh.  
  
“It might be against Hogwarts Policy, but it isn’t against mine,” Dolohov growled, stopping his exploration on her throat to look at her. He grabbed her chin, his thumb pointing up to brush against her lower lip causing her mouth to part, he lowered his head to whisper in her ear. “Beautiful, Hermione,” he purred. “Fierce and beautiful.”  
  
Hermione leaned closer to his big, warm body hoping to find that delicious promise hidden in the zip of his dark purple trousers. He snaked an arm around her waist and possessively clamped her body against his. Gruffly but not too violently, Antonin tilted her chin up, so he could gaze deeply into her tawney eyes; he cocked it to one side, with careful consideration, Antonin firmly pressed his lips on hers. Joyfully, she moaned his name. Tenderly, so as not to frighten her, Antonin tugged at her lower lip with his teeth to part her mouth wider.  
  
There was nothing coy about the way Dolohov slid his tongue in exploring her sweet little mouth. His hands slid up her back, weaving into her long and wild locks. Unashamedly, he kissed her passionately, his playful tongue coaxed her own as they played a heated game of Tag.

Confidence had led him to believe that if Hermione was not wet before she certainly was now. If he carried on there would be nothing left of her sanity. He did carry on! All he desired was to stay in her mouth. Her startled muffled shriek literally had Dolohov’s head spinning with power. Smoothly he licked the roof of her mouth from back to front and side to side. Adventurously, he poked his tongue deeper into her mouth as she wrapped her little arms around his firm neck hitching her legs up over his thighs. His own busy hands clamped Hermione tightly to his body. Deliciously Hermione moaned, sighed and giggled as he swiped at Slughorn’s preparation bench causing an absolute mess. Dolohov carried her over and placed her on the uneven surface finally releasing her from his kiss. He smirked at the sight of her pouting, her eyes shining with anticipation, and the rise and fall of her rounded soft breasts. Moments later when it was clear he was planning how next to proceed, Hermione herself decided to put him out of his misery.  
  
“Antonin,” she moaned. “Oh, Antonin, why are we…?”  
  
“Because you are attracted to me, Hermione, don’t deny it. Just as I am attracted to you if you must know.”  
  
He stepped away from her. Then he took her bag as well as simultaneously holding her dainty hand.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                
  
“Come on, let’s go somewhere a little bit more private and comfortable shall we?”  
  
Hermione nodded. He led her to the back of the classroom, where he touched a brick and the wall separated.  
  
“What if Harry finds out?” Hermione asked.  
  
Antonin turned to look at her and smirked. “Not _all_ of Hogwarts is on that stupid map. Yes, I know about that. Something Severus told me to be on the lookout for. Even the so-called Marauders wouldn’t venture into the private rooms of Salazar Slytherin himself, now, would they?”  
  
Hermione gulped down, she was feeling less secure as Dolohov led her down this ancient, dark corridor. “What map?” she said uneasily.  
  
“Oh don’t worry,” Dolohov said, ignoring the words, sensing the concealed discomfort within them. “There was _one_ Gryffindor he allowed down here. Keliana Gryffindor to be exact.”  
  
“Godric’s daughter?” Hermione gasped. “How come that is not mentioned in… oh! Godric must have erased her from his tree once he found out.”  
  
Dolohov nodded. They eventually came to a door. Antonin whispered his password in Russian, it sprang open and he led her through it. She took in her surroundings with pleasure. Ecstatically squealing with joy that she was standing in a room that one of the Hogwarts four had slept in, pride surged up in her heart. She had no time to take in her surroundings however as Dolohov had whipped his wand out and divested her of her clothing whilst her back was turned. When she noticed she spun around, a fury in her eyes, she was just about to tell him off when she noticed that he was naked as well.  
  
“Glorious mishka, abso-bloody glorious, Hermione,” he whispered over her naked flesh.

She closed her eyes blushing at how muscular he was, especially his forearms. Not to mention his tattoos – the scent of leather clung to the air in the room.  
  
“Yes,” she squeaked, “um,” nervously shifting her weight foot to foot as her lower lip was sucked into his mouth before she had time to say something else to stall. “Th-th-tha…” she stammered and coughed a few times to try and regain her composure, “thank you, that was …” she coughed again. “That was needed.”  
  
Smirking with pride as he swept her off her feet bridal style and carried her through to his bedchamber, both as naked as Adam and Eve, hooking his foot around and closed the door. She was giggling as he tipped her onto the king-sized bed; Hermione purred as her naked flesh met his green, grey and black silk sheets. When she was laying there, against the Slytherin sheets – hair fanned out behind her as decadent curls spiralled down her shoulders. Blushing, panting, naked and soft! Hermione’s gaze lowered to his tumescence, the head gleaming waiting for orders.  
  
“Like it?” Antonin smirked.   
  
Stripped for words, all she could do was nod silently as her hungry eyes all but worshipped his ‘wand’. Hermione was all too aware that she was naked under Dolohov’s greedy inspection. The stain travelled down her neck to her décolletage as Antonin studied every inch of her body.

“Antonin,” she hissed, as he crawled up her body. Instinctively, she threw her head back offering her turgid nipple to his hungry mouth, “Wow!” electricity and magic swirled around them as skin met skin. She fisted her hands into his thick wavy raven hair as he continued exploring her soft breasts.   
  
“After this, Hermione,” he panted as his lips attached themselves to the juncture of her neck and shoulders: “I won’t let you near another man… in fact…” he kept the end of the sentence hanging benignly in the shared breath between them. “So gorgeous!”  
  
Hermione’s eyes snapped open when he snuck his hand between her thighs to feel how wet she was for him!   
  
“You are too!” she exclaimed.

“You’re beautiful,” his fingers had separated her folds to get to the nub, “brave maiden. Russian men love warrior women,” she gurgled and gasped as he continued massaging her femininity, “above all else, you are the only one who has ever thanked me.”  
  
Hermione had a lump in her throat. This one act was going to change her life forever. By no means was she a virgin, that honour went to Steven Snape, a boy she’d been friends with her whole life. Dressed like metal rock star, owned several species of reptile, and often spoke of a father he never knew. Still, Antonin was making her body sing a bloody chorus.  
  
“Wow,” she breathed when she stroked his face allowing her questing fingers to stroke and caress his soft beard, “I…” she writhed under his own inquisitive touch, “thank you, Antonin.”  
  
He lowered his head and pressed hot, heavy kisses up her body, keeping his onyx eyes on her cinnamon orbs as he did so.  
  
“Then, Hermione … shall we?”  
  
Shyly Hermione offered a small smile along with her silent nod for consent, widely spreading her legs, mewling indeed like the kitten he called her earlier with sheer delight. Dolohov made sure he lubricated his length with one hand after he had prepared her with three fingers to feel the heat on his flesh. When the third finger was added Hermione gasped and squeezed his fingers.

“Bloody hell!” he swore thickly, “You are tight, _kotenok_!”  
  
“Please,” she gasped as her fingers dug into his firm biceps.

“Hold, on little Pchelka.”

Slowly, he pushed in, both grimacing – he at her tightness, her at the girth pushing its way into her. Greedily, though, she pulled him in inch by inch until as much of him could get inside her as was possible. Panting and now sweating, Hermione shifted her body to allow her to adjust to his firm grip. Colours exploded behind her eyelids, kaleidoscopic visions of varie-hued swirls and flashes allowed her to get used to him.

In the middle of her gasping Antonin captured her mouth with the most powerful kiss she’d had. Tongues danced the tango in each other’s mouths, exploring the different textures, the sweet/salt combination a heady flavour.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his back as Antonin pulled out in a slow, graceful movement. Before she had time to protest he thrust deeply into her both grunting with satisfaction, stars flashed above her as he continued pulling and pushing, retreating and advancing, first slow then fast. Changing the pace, controlling the rhythm. Letting their passion build and build, into a roaring crescendo of crashing cymbals, beating drums and heavy violins as his body moved above hers sweat pouring off his furrowed brow.

“This… stay… there, again! Harder! I’m not a doll! Faster, Antonin, faster!”

“More, Hermione, ask me More.”  
  
“MORE!” she growled through gritted teeth, holding in her cries of pleasure burbling through her.  
  
He smiled. “Certainly!”  
  
Hermione giggled mid-gasp. Talking was difficult as their efforts were concentrated on their layers of pleasure. Antonin had to time it just right.

“More,” she urged.

Serpentine beneath him as she twisted and writhed. As he plunged deeper and deeper feeling sweeter every moment he was gripped inside her walls. The sweat soaked sheets had stuck to her body caressing her hips and legs in their sensual embrace, and Hermione felt like she was going to explode. Groaning, he picked her left leg up and slung over his shoulder, so he could angle deeper into her. Firmly holding her twitching limb in place he again earnestly advanced. Bravely, she pushed onto him, making him groan with delight.

Passions dance was now in full swing. Neither had the strength to speak as they just allowed their lusts to take over. Hermione felt her belly coil and wind tighter and tighter within; puffing and panting, their powerful desire both exhilarated and tired her. She needed…need…ne…Hermione screamed as she he pushed right down into her rubbing his pelvic bone against her engorged and throbbing clit. Tears streamed down her reddened cheeks as she struggled to keep her grip on his sweaty flesh, even digging her nails as deep as they could possibly go, extracting blood from his arm in little crimson beads.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, more, there, yes oh yes! YES! ANT-O-NIN!” Hermione screamed.

Her come drenched him. He thrust again and again, riding on her orgasmic wave – with a bear like grunt Antonin collapsed on top of her as he spilt his seed inside her.

“Hermione!” was all he had energy to say as she rushed her hands through his wet hair. She felt him go limp inside her. “Hermione, that was…”  
  
If he witnessed her blush he would have tried to perk himself up for round two. Hermione was still twitching from her own. After sniffing her in Dolohov turned around and noticed her eyes glistening with joy. Tenderly, he stroked her cheek in awe of her glowing ecstasy, a light smile flickered in and out of sight in a blink of an eye. He shuffled up her body again and laid his head on her beating heart letting her stroke and twirl her fingers in his dark hair.  
  
“We’ll have to keep this a secret,” Hermione murmured. “Our relationship. We won’t be able to tell anyone.”  
  
Dolohov smiled as he nuzzled his face into her bosom looking playfully up at her. “Not for too long.”

“Why?”

He smirked enigmatically as he peppered kisses over her shoulder down to her breast, then drew the sheets over them: “Hmm, you’ll find out…” he murmured as they dozed off into each other’s arms.


End file.
